ARENDT’S REVOLUTIONARY ANTIQUITY MIRIAM LEONARD N HER BOOK ON REVOLUTION, published in 1963, the political theorist Hannah Arendt asks why revolution had become one of the dominant modes of polit- I ical expression in the twentieth century. Arendt’sreflections on revolution form an important counterpart and fascinating supplement to her more monu- mental writings on twentieth-century despotism. In her magnum opus, The Ori- gins of Totalitarianism, Arendt would formulate a deeply pessimistic vision of modernity.1 In exploring the rise of Hitler, she demonstrates how modern total- itarian regimes have not just been political tyrannies; they have infiltrated the pri- vate economic and cultural lives of their citizens and laid clam “to every corner of human existence.”“Tolitarianism’s essence,” she asserts, “is the total domination of human beings by the terror. [...] At their heart is the attempted extirpation of all human ‘spontaneity,’ which is to say human freedom.”2 As Jonathan Schell argues, “alongside this portrait of the political world, On Revolution seems to be- long to another moral universe. [...] In place of the concentration camps, the his- torical scene at the dead center of On Revolution is the Mayflower Compact.”3 Where the earlier book analyzed the suppression of freedom with forensic detail, the later writings celebrate the project of human emancipation through action in concert. The trajectory of Arendt’s thought is well illustrated by the opening pas- sages of On Revolution: Wars and revolutions—as though events had only hurried up to fulfil Lenin’s prediction— have thus far determined the physiognomy of the twentieth century. And as distinguished from the nineteenth-century ideologies—such as nationalism and internationalism, capitalism and imperialism, socialism and communism, which, though still invoked by many as justify- ing causes, have lost contact with the major realities of our world—war and revolutions still constitute its two central political issues. They have outlived all ideological justifications. In a constellation that poses the threat of total annihilation through war against the hope for the emancipation of all mankind through revolution—leading one people after the other in quick succession ‘to assume among the powers of the earth the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them’—no cause is left but the most ancient of all, the one, in fact, that from the beginning of our history has determined the very existence of politics, the cause of freedom versus tyranny.4 1. Arendt 1976. My thanks to Bonnie Honig, Joshua Billings, and Constanze Güthenke for their comments on this article, as well as my audiences at Oxford and Princeton. 2. Schell 2006, xiii. 3. Schell 2006, xiv. 4. Arendt 2006, 1. Classical Philology 113 (2018): 53–66 [q 2018 by The University of Chicago. All rights reserved] 0009-837X/18/11301-0005$10.00 53 This content downloaded from 128.041.061.146 on April 19, 2018 05:00:38 AM All use subject to University of Chicago Press Terms and Conditions (http://www.journals.uchicago.edu/t-and-c). 54 MIRIAM LEONARD One of the most striking aspects of this opening is the complex temporalities that Arendt sets in play. While she is ostensibly writing about the distinctiveness of the “physiognomy of the twentieth century,” a number of other historical hori- zons are brought into view. First the grand narratives of the nineteenth century, narratives that she had examined at length in her genealogical investigation of the origins of totalitarianism. While wars and revolutions persist, the nineteenth- century ideologies that sustained them have seemingly been left behind. Despite the apparent obsolescence of past ideological frameworks, it is Thomas Jefferson’s late-eighteenth-century Declaration of Independence that is invoked as the man- tra of the succession of peoples yearning for emancipation. But if the American Revolution provides the script for the revolutions of the mid-twentieth century, it is ultimately antiquity that makes political expression possible as such: “no cause is left but the most ancient of all, the one, in fact, that from the beginning of our history has determined the very existence of politics, the cause of freedom versus tyranny.” For all the distinctiveness of the twentieth-century moment, for Arendt, its events remain illegible without reference to “the most ancient of all” political framings. The tripartite temporal reference that Arendt sets up in this opening par- agraph recurs as a pattern throughout On Revolution. Antiquity, the late eighteenth century, and the contemporary condition continually merge in her analysis. It is by coming to terms with the notion of revolution that Arendt defines and refines her concept of the political, a concept that emerges from the confluence between an- tiquity, the revolutions of the eighteenth century, and the democratic uprisings of the twentieth century. That Arendt connects revolution to the pursuit of freedom and that freedom is associated by her with the “most ancient” understanding of the political may seem unsurprising to us. But she is at pains to highlight the discrediting of freedom as a motivation for political action in the analyses of her day. Freedom was what she called a “buried concept” in modern political thought: Even the revolutionists, whom one might have assumed to be safely and even inexorably an- chored in a tradition that could hardly be told, let alone made sense of without the notion of freedom, would much rather degrade freedom to the rank of a lower-middle-class prejudice than admit that the aim of revolution was, and always has been, freedom.5 This depreciation of freedom in modernity is seen by Arendt as a symptom of the wider co-option of the political by what she will call “the social.” For Arendt, the political realm, as such, has to be distinguished from the aspects of social life that she aligns to the domestic sphere. This stark division is one of the most con- troversial aspects of her thought and one that she develops extensively in her philosophical-cum-political treatise The Human Condition, written in 1958 in the in- terval between The Origins of Totalitarianism and On Revolution.6 Arendt’s highly exclusive understanding of what constitutes the domain of politics is outlined there in terms that she derives from the Greek polis: The distinction between a private and a public sphere of life corresponds to the household and political realms, which have existed as distinct, separate entities at least since the rise of the 5. Arendt 2006, 1. 6. On the controversy surrounding Arendt’s exclusion of the “social,” see most influentially Pitkin 1998. This content downloaded from 128.041.061.146 on April 19, 2018 05:00:38 AM All use subject to University of Chicago Press Terms and Conditions (http://www.journals.uchicago.edu/t-and-c). ARENDT’S REVOLUTIONARY ANTIQUITY 55 ancient city state; but the emergence of the social realm, which is neither private nor public, strictly speaking, is a relatively new phenomenon whose origin coincided with the emergence of the modern age and which found its political form in the nation-state.7 While the ancient Greek city upheld a rigid demarcation between the private and the public, the oikos and the polis, Arendt sees the blurring of the two domains as a distinctive quality of the modern nation. Her return to the Greek polis in this passage is part of her wider privileging of ancient Athens as the birthplace of the political. The Greeks, for Arendt, were the political actors par excellence and the organization of the polis provides her with a blueprint for understanding what dis- tinguishes politics as such from the spheres of economics and sociology. Given the privileging of Athens as her model, it is not surprising that freedom plays the decisive role in this delineation: The realm of the polis [....] was the sphere of freedom, and if there was a relationship between these two spheres, it was a matter of course that the mastering of the necessities of life in the household was the condition for the freedom of the polis.[...] What all Greek philosophers, no matter how opposed to polis life, took for granted is that freedom is exclusively located in the political realm, that necessity is primarily a prepolitical phenomenon characteristic of the private household organization, and that force and violence are justified in this sphere because they are the only means to master necessity—for instance, by ruling over slaves—and to be- come free.8 In Arendt’s mind, what defines the political is the space of freedom that is con- stituted in such a way that it liberates its citizen participants from the constraints of necessity. Turning one’s back on the domestic is a precondition of the entry into politics. The oikos is governed by the inequalities, the struggles, and the en- slavement—both literal and figurative—that make the freedom of the polis a pos- sibility. So for Arendt there is no politics without freedom and no freedom without the emancipation from the economic necessities that characterize the “social.” This is why Arendt believes both freedom and politics have become devalued in modern society. The political sphere has been confused with the economic sphere, and rather than seeing freedom as the ultimate aim of political action, revolution- aries and citizens have become increasingly vocal about preoccupations—such as poverty—that are more properly understood as social. Arendt’s motivation in addressing the topic of revolution can be understood in part as an attempt to liberate it from Marxist analysis and the return to ancient Greece is a central plank of this reevaluation.9 In On Revolution she argues that Marxists have transformed the political concept of revolution into a social ques- tion.